


Tipping Point

by fuzipenguin



Series: Half Your Age +7 [17]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Battle wounds, Established Relationship, M/M, Older!Twins, Other, Twincest, younger!ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: When you have your hands around someone's soul, it makes you think.





	Tipping Point

**Author's Note:**

> harutemu said: For a promt: Really feeling the younger! Ratchet au, so either one where the twins get to witness Ratchet's 'Medic Strength' first hand, or the first time Ratchet got Them flustered.
> 
> This has been heavily edited from its original version on Tumblr. Hope you all like the revisions!

                Dealing with the twins was always… well, they kept things interesting, that was for certain. There were the endless pet names, the touching (although he had to admit it was never anything untoward), and a barrage of suggestive comments.

                Ratchet had come to the decision that it was all harmless. It was probably nothing more than a bit of fun to them and maybe one day he’d regret not putting a stop to it, but overall he had grown used to their antics. If nothing else, they trusted him, a gesture which wasn’t always extended to the other medics.

                “Get your fragging hands off him!”

                Ratchet reflexively steadied First Aid as the other mech stumbled backwards out of the cubicle with a pained yelp. He was holding his right wrist, but a scan showed nothing more serious than a dent.

                “Your turn,” First Aid muttered and Ratchet nodded. As the other medic walked off to find a more accommodating patient, Ratchet entered the room, holding out his hands in a non-threatening manner.

                “Sideswipe. Sideswipe, it’s me, it’s Ratchet.”

                He spoke in a soothing manner, pinging the frontliner with his indent codes every few seconds. Normally that was enough for most worked up warriors, but sometimes the twins’ old instincts would stir and their natural wariness of medics reared up. They would lash out unexpectedly, guarding each other with a fierce protectiveness. Fortunately, they rarely responded to Ratchet that way.

                Sideswipe took a second to recognize him, but when he did, his shoulders sagged in relief. He slid away from Sunstreaker’s berthside and grabbed Ratchet’s arm. “Fix him,” he pleaded, tugging Ratchet closer. “Please… I think there’s shrapnel in his spark casing. It hurts. It hurts so much; I can’t keep up with it.”

                His optics were wide and panicked, and Ratchet reflexively patted his shoulder. “That’s not what the field medic’s chart said,” Ratchet murmured, moving forward. He started removing the multitude of mesh bandages covering Sunstreaker’s right side and chest. “It mentioned he got caught in a bomb blast?”

                “Yes, and it wasn’t that bad out on the field, but on the way in it really started to hurt,” Sideswipe said, voice wavering. “Spinner was going fast and the ground wasn’t exactly smooth; I think something shifted inside of him.”

                “Well, it’s certainly possible that… well, frag,” Ratchet said feelingly as the wound was finally revealed. He reared back for a second, trying to make sense of the mess. Sunstreaker’s chest was covered with energon and the plating was badly torn, pretty much missing over his upper right thoracic quadrant. And just at the edge of it all, Ratchet spied a flicker of sparklight.

                He flicked on a headlight and leaned in, quickly taking stock. Sunstreaker’s reinforced spark housing had three wide rips in the side of it and through the openings he spied several small pieces of metal embedded in his crystal. Sideswipe had been exactly right, unfortunately.

                “Sideswipe, I’ve never done something like this,” Ratchet said, although he started doing what he could for the bleeding lines and raw nerve clusters. Unfortunately, the spark crystal had it’s own nerve supply, one that couldn’t be as turned off as easily as something in a limb. “Hoist will…”

                “Hoist’s still out in the field doing emergency repairs on the commander,” Sideswipe replied and Ratchet pinged Hoist’s location. He growled a little in frustration when he saw that Hoist was right where Sideswipe had said he was. Spinner would be the next best option, but he was also still out on the field, transporting patients back to the medical bay.

                “Fine. All right, I’ll do my best; it’s a simple procedure in theory,” Ratchet said. He glanced down at Sunstreaker, noting that his optics were bleached of color. He was obviously trying not to move, but he couldn’t help the restless shift of his legs and hands.

                “…just _really_ dangerous,” Ratched added, a thrill of nervousness running through him. “Sunny, I need to get some pain blockers in you. Stasis would be better, but…”

                “…do it.”

                Ratchet reared back in surprise. He’d reattached an arm to Sunstreaker and the mech had remained awake the entire time. The twins hated medical stasis, hated anyone behind their firewalls. Ratchet didn’t know if was pain or trust that prompted Sunstreaker’s acquiescence.

                “I can’t…” Sunstreaker shook his head, optic covers slamming shut. His vents wheezed as he struggled. “If I move… while you’re… working… my spark gutters… Sides might… go too.”

                Or maybe it was the thought of stopping the spin of his brother’s spark if he passed. There was little evidence that the death of one twin would cause the other to immediately die as well, but Ratchet imagined neither Sideswipe nor Sunstreaker would want to live without the other. Even if one lived, the grief would probably end up killing them.

                Well, whatever Sunstreaker’s reasons, Ratchet would take it. He swiftly plugged into Sunstreaker’s nearest port and initiated a medical shutdown.

                Sunstreaker went limp and Sideswipe staggered a little as the pain he had been sharing with his twin suddenly ended. Ratchet grabbed his shoulder and steadied him until Sideswipe could stand without wobbling.

                “You all right?” Ratchet demanded. “I can’t treat both of you at the same time.”

                “No, I’m… I’m good,” Sideswipe replied, seemingly unable to look away from his brother. “Please don’t make me leave.”

                Ratchet pointed to a chair in the corner. “Be quiet and stay out of my way then. Let me know if something feels wrong to you.”

                For an unfamiliar procedure like this one, Ratchet would take every advantage he could get.

 

\--

 

                He doesn’t quite know how he managed it, but Ratchet retrieved each and every one of the metal slivers embedded in Sunstreaker’s crystal. A bare micromilimeter separated the deepest one from Sunstreaker’s actual spark and Ratchet had had to take a step back and just vent for a minute after extracting that last one, mentally willing his fingers to stop shaking.

                In comparison to that, everything else was easy, just normal trauma repair. Sunstreaker was out for a grand total of forty-five minutes and he woke without any complications. Sideswipe had jittered in place off to the side until Sunstreaker finally opened his optics. Sideswipe had made an aborted motion towards his twin but then stopped and stared pleadingly at Ratchet. A nod of permission had Sideswipe plastering himself against Sunstreaker’s good side, keening softly.

                Ratchet turned his back to give them a little privacy and puttered around the room, washing his tools and collecting detritus for disposal. Despite Sunstreaker’s vitals remaining good throughout the procedure and even improving now that he was awake, Ratchet found it difficult to walk away. He was paranoid that the welds were fail… that Sunstreaker’s spark would fluctuate and go out, and then he’d have lost not one, but two patients.

                He finally convinced himself to leave; he had other patients after all, coming in steadily from the field. But between every one, he checked up on Sunstreaker. After the third time he caught a guilty looking Sideswipe slipping off the berth, he encouraged Sideswipe to lay next to his twin. He didn’t see the harm, especially when Sideswipe vehemently promised none of the monitoring equipment would be disturbed.

                Sideswipe was honestly probably a better judge of his twin’s status than any piece of equipment Ratchet had. And he was true to his word. The next few times Ratchet checked in on them, Sideswipe was carefully arranged around his brother, all of Sunstreaker’s electrodes still in place.

                At the end of his shift, Ratchet visited one last time. He entered the recovery room without knocking, expecting to see the twins in the same position as he had left them. He definitely wasn’t anticipating catching Sideswipe straddling his brother’s prone frame, their chestplates slid aside and sparks visibly reaching for one another.

                Sideswipe jerked back so violently at Ratchet’s entrance that he tumbled off the berth, spark chamber slamming closed as he fell. He scrambled to his feet, right hand pressed against the plating covering his spark. Sunstreaker raised his head up and glared at Ratchet as his own plating settled back into place.

                “Primus! Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Sideswipe exclaimed, throwing his other hand up in the air.

                Ratchet raised an orbital ridge. “I have,” he replied calmly. “Not generally a habit of mine, though. Usually I don’t have to worry about walking in on something like this.”

                “Yeah, well, maybe you should start!” Sideswipe said, still looking a little wide opticked.

                “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m aware that twins merge,” Ratchet said reassuringly. It didn’t seem to help.

                “I’m not _embarrassed!_ ” Sideswipe retorted hotly. “It’s just not… you shouldn’t… it’s private! And we’d thought you’d tell us not to!”

                He defensively crossed his arms over his chest and fidgeted from foot to foot. It was the most off center Ratchet had ever seen him. Even Sunstreaker was looking a little discomforted.

                “You’re right; I would have told you to wait at least another day to avoid any stress on Sunstreaker’s spark. But private?” Ratchet scoffed. “I caught Sunstreaker with his hand on your spike just last week.”

                “That’s different,” Sunstreaker said, averting his gaze.

                “Yeah. It’s different,” Sideswipe echoed, lifting his chin in challenge. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

                Ratchet’s orbital ridges rose so high they practically get lost under his chevron. “When I’m… ? All right, that’s it - get out. It’s time for you to go. Come on… out! Get out of my Medical Bay!!”

                “Yours? Getting a little big for your plating there, aren’t y… ow! Ok, fine, I’ll leave! Lemme go!”

                Ratchet pinched the tip of Sideswipe’s sensory horn a little harder and pushed him out of the room.

                “The next time I catch you with either your spikes or sparks out other than for medical reasons, I’m banning you from visiting one another completely!” Ratchet hissed as he slammed the door on Sideswipe’s astonished face. When he turned around, Ratchet found Sunstreaker studying him like he was an interesting new creature.

                “Any questions?” Ratchet warningly demanded of his patient.

                “No spikes or sparks. Got it,” Sunstreaker intoned. “You realize he’s going to make your life a living Hell until you let him back in though, right?”

                “Bring it,” Ratchet growled. “’When I’m older…’ You do realize that I work with sparks on a daily basis, don’t you?”

                “You’re young, Ratchet,” Sunstreaker said with an air of patience about him Ratchet didn’t normally see. Maybe the residual pain blockers had made him mellow. “You don’t see many mechs your age who have merged before, not unless they’re a twin or part of a gestalt. It’s not something to be taken lightly, and it’s a lot more involved than taking a peek behind the armor when you get abnormal readings.”

                “Yeah, well, I got more than just a peek at _your_ spark today,” Ratchet pointed out, engine grumbling in irritation. “And I’m not _that_ young.”

                Sunstreaker closed his optics and settled back against the inclined berth. “You’re practically jailbait,” he said with a small grin on his face.

                “What? Is that part of the appeal, old mech?” Ratchet snarked. He had saved Sunstreaker’s life, damnit. Today had just proven that he was a capable medic, regardless of his age.

                Sunstreaker cracked open one optic and gave him a once over that was full of heat. “There’s a lot of appeal,” he said simply. He shut his optic again, shifted once more, and then initiated recharge.

                Ratchet’s mouth opened once or twice as he stared at Sunstreaker, irritation slipping into perplexity. Sometimes he didn’t know what to think about the twins. Were they _really_ interested in him? Or was this all just a game to them?

                He didn’t want to get hurt. He’d been down that road before and it left him wary of people showing romantic interest in him. No one had ever stuck around as long as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had, however.

                Ratchet finally shook his head. Sunstreaker was stable and it was the end of Ratchet’s shift. He was exhausted and for once, he was going to take his break and rest. Maybe some recharge would give him a new perspective on this whole thing.

                As he walked down the hallway towards the main bay treatment area, something made him glance over his shoulder. He snorted in amusement as he caught a flash of crimson disappearing into Sunstreaker’s room.

                Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s interest in him was still up in the air, but as long as they hung around, he at least got to witness what he suspected would be the most beautiful relationship he’d ever seen.

 

~ End


End file.
